Page 39 of Midnight Hunter
My focus shifted at her words, and I frowned at her in confusion. “I don’t have a murder face. What are you talking about?”
She chuckled and stepped around the trap to head back to camp. “I hate to break it to you, but you most definitely have a murder face. There’s a vee between your eyebrows pulling themdown into a dark frown. Couple that with your already dark eyes and you have a murder face.”
I couldn’t help it and frowned harder. “Well, I don’t feel murderous.”
Lana laughed. “If you were a woman, we’d call it resting bitch face.”
One side of my mouth crooked up. “Now that I’ve been accused of before.”
“But are you one, is the question.”
“A bitch?”
She nodded, falling into step beside me as I picked my way over the snowy forest floor.
“No. An asshole, yes, sometimes. But never a bitch.” Which was true. I didn’t suffer fools and had little patience for them. That made me curt, which meant sometimes, I could be a jerk.
“At least you’re honest. That’s more than a lot of people would admit to.”
“You don’t have much without your integrity. I might be a jerk sometimes, but I’m going to own up to it.” I set my crutch and hopped over a small rock.
“Same. I can’t stand two-faced people.”
After a few more careful feet of maneuvering, we made it back to our shelter.
Together, we made quick work of putting away our cooking and eating supplies. Lana added more wood to the fire while I stowed everything back inside the tent, out of the way of any pests that might wander in while we were asleep. I also took a couple of pain pills. I’d hoped not to, since I would just be sleeping, but the little bit of work to reset the sapling had my body aching. I knew I’d never be able to relax enough to sleep if I didn’t. Hopefully, we weren’t stuck here too much longer. I only had a finite supply of medication.
The tent flap fluttered, and Lana slipped inside. “Do you have everything we need from out there?” She paused in the doorway.
“Yes.” I zipped my pack shut and pushed it into the corner.
“Awesome. I’m ready to go to sleep.” She zipped the tent flap shut.
So was I.
Fabric rustled and zippers ticked as we got into our sleeping bags.
With a wince, I straightened out on my back, my head propped on my pack. Closing my eyes, I willed my brain to fall asleep, but the pain pills hadn’t kicked in yet. Everything hurt. From the ends of my hair to the tips of my big toes, my body ached.
Trying not to focus on it, I let my mind wander. My first thoughts were about the weather. With the snow over with, hopefully, Walker would be able to get up in the air tomorrow to scout the area, and we could get out of here the next day.
Thoughts of the timeline led to thoughts of the faceless poacher or poachers lurking somewhere nearby. If the coals on their fire were still warm when the snow started, they didn’t make it out of the area before we got socked in.
That thought—being socked in—led me to my current situation. Which led to thoughts of the woman tossing and turning beside me. Again.
It was becoming a nightly thing for me to combat feelings about the wedding planner who hauled me out here.
Internally, I rolled my eyes at myself. Two days. It had been two days.
Well, three, if I counted the night at home after she showed up.
The amount of time didn’t really matter, though. I just didn’t want thoughts of her to take up space in my head. Not like that.I didn’t need a relationship. Been there. Done that. Never again. It hurt too much when it ended.
That didn’t stop my eyes from opening and turning toward her, though.
Her back was to me, and her breathing was even and slow. She’d fallen asleep.
Lucky.
